


in a tender trouble

by I_wouldnt_be_one_of_them



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Animal Transformation, Episode: s15e19 Inherit the Earth, Fix-it? I guess?, M/M, Miracle the dog is actually Cas, borrows little pieces of the beginning of the finale and casually discards the rest :)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:14:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27703295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_wouldnt_be_one_of_them/pseuds/I_wouldnt_be_one_of_them
Summary: As part of his last plan to mess with the Winchesters, Chuck pulls Castiel out of the Empty and turns him into a dog.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester (background)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 57





	in a tender trouble

**Author's Note:**

> Me watching the finale: Haha what if the dog was Cas  
> Me after Cas wasn't in the finale: Fuck it the dog is Cas
> 
> Some influences from i wanna see your animal side by microcomets, [on little cat feet](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7800070) by museaway, and [without your armor](https://archiveofourown.org/works/743995) by kiyala (in the Les Mis fandom) may have slipped in here since they're similar concepts and I've reread them recently, but I would never intentionally plagiarize anything. Except technically the title, which is from the poem "To Flush, My Dog" by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

The first thing Cas sees when he opens his eyes is a wide blue sky, bright and pale and nothing like the Empty. The second thing he sees, when he lowers his gaze, is the face of God.

“You woke me?” Cas asks, bewildered.

“I wanted to compliment you, Castiel.”

“Compliment me?”

“This ending! An angel falling in love with the human he was tasked with saving, then sacrificing himself for him? I have to be honest, I was always sort of jealous that I didn’t think to write that. And this new twist? Making the sacrifice even more tragic by making it come on the tails of a fleeting moment of long-denied happiness? Oh, I know that wasn’t your idea, but I’m not going to talk to _that_ … being, so you get the credit. Especially since you had the stroke of genius of finding that happiness by finally acknowledging the big queer elephant in the room! You know you made yourself follow the bury your gays trope? Incredible. I only know that term because of Becky, and spending time with her is also how I know that if I hadn’t exterminated all of humanity, the fans would _hate_ this. But you know what? I really don’t care anymore. I kind of love it. I think it’s… poetic. It doesn’t hurt that it upset the Winchesters.”

Cas swallows down the wave of nausea sparked by the thought of all of humanity wiped out and growls, “What is the point of this?”

Chuck ignores him, and goes on a rant explaining that his final plan for Dean, Sam, and Jack is leaving them alone and miserable. It’s a terrible thought, and his rhetorical style is about as good as his writing, so Cas tunes him out for a minute.

When he finally stops talking, Cas repeats, “What is your point? Why am I here?”

“I have one more use for you. You’re going to give them one last shred of hope and joy, and then I’m going to rip it away. You inspired me, actually, so thanks for that.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh, Castiel, Castiel, I love that you think you have a choice. And don’t worry, they won’t even know it’s you. But _I’ll_ know, and it’s just too entertaining to pass up. Entertaining for me, obviously.”

“What are you talking about?”

A cruel smile. “Well, you’ve always kind of been the Winchesters’ little pet, haven’t you?” Before Cas can try to dispute that, Chuck snaps his fingers, and Cas gasps as he is overtaken by an indescribable, borderline painful sensation that rips through his body and seems to make the world around him shift; it’s not like anything he’s ever experienced, really, but it’s not entirely distant from how it felt the first time he poured his true self into a vessel.

Things go blurry for a bit, and then he feels… different, like his form has altered somehow, and everything around him seems larger.

He tries to ask Chuck, towering over him, what he’s done to him, but all that comes out is a woof, and – oh. Oh. Now he processes what is different about his body. The four legs. The tail. The floppy ears.

He’s a dog. Fantastic.

“Fuck you,” he says. It comes out as barks, but it’s God, he probably understands anyway.

Laughing, Chuck says, “You’re adorable. Yeah, this is gonna tug the heartstrings for sure.”

He snaps again, and suddenly Cas is alone in front of a service station in the middle of nowhere.

It would have been pointless to try to attack Chuck, he reminds himself. As either an angel or a dog, he would have been stopped in his tracks the moment he even thought about it. But oh, how Cas would like to punch him. Or bite his ankles, maybe; he would deserve that.

At least he’s out of the Empty. This time he truly was asleep, so his recollections are very fuzzy, and he has no idea how long he was there, but he knows that he spent time doing nothing but drift between vague dreams; it was like he was stuck in that odd sliver of consciousness between peace and nightmare. He has had worse experiences, but that does not mean he wants that to be his eternity. He is glad to be back on Earth, even if it ends up being temporary.

Still, he cannot shake his distress, as he wanders around the outside of the station, finding no signs of human or animal life.

If Chuck says this is about the Winchesters, then they will be here eventually, and Cas will be here waiting for them, but waiting can be boring, so he goes and lies down behind a wooden pallet propped up near the restrooms.

Finally, his ears perk up at the familiar roar of the Impala’s engines, but he doesn’t move to greet them, unwilling to be enthusiastic about a plan to torment them no matter how much he longs to see them.

But of course Dean is the one to find him, and he can only act sad and uninterested for moments in the face of Dean’s excited smile. He pushes forward into the hand Dean extends for him to sniff, and lets him scratch behind his ears and hold his face like something precious.

After their last conversation, he had not expected to ever see Dean again, and certainly not looking this happy to find him. He wonders, though the thought stings, how different his reaction would be if he knew it was him.

That’s unfair. Dean is a good man, Cas wouldn’t love him if he wasn’t; he may be repressed but is not a homophobe, and would be glad to see a friend, especially in these circumstances, even if there was tension between them.

“Who’d have thought finding a dog would feel like a miracle,” Dean muses, and he’s beaming but there’s a sadness there, too, and Cas’s heart breaks at the thought of what he must have endured, how lonely he must be. “Come on, Miracle,” says Dean, hands beckoning him, and Cas is helpless to do anything but jump into his arms and let him carry him back to the car.

“You found a dog?” Sam asks, stunned.

“Yeah, I guess Chuck didn’t get everything! Maybe there’s _people_ he missed, you know?” Oh no, there it is, the joy and hope, and Cas is starting to see Chuck’s plan. “By the way, this guy is coming home with us,” Dean adds, and Cas’s heart is warm at the idea of it, but he’s struck by gut-wrenching certainty that he won’t be.

Sam goes to get Jack – and Cas whines at the mixed emotions of wanting to see his son but not wanting to be used to hurt him. Cas lets Dean load him into the backseat and continue petting him, muttering about how he’s the best thing that’s happened in the last few days, and maybe his tail wags a little despite himself. It’s then that he suddenly feels himself rapidly start fading away, and he just barely gets a glimpse of Dean’s expression of horror before there is Nothing.

He comes back on a small town street bustling with human activity. Physically shaking off the shock like water – because he is still a dog, fur and all – he looks around and sees Dean, Sam, and Jack standing across the street, which explains the return of humanity. With a jolt, he realizes that Jack is radiating immense power that is new to him, yet also familiar, and a moment later he recognizes why.

Jack is _God_.

What did Cas _miss_?

Without fully thinking about it, he goes running across the street. Jack smiles at him, but doesn’t seem inclined to interact, and the brothers are busy staring around at the populated town and don’t notice him, so he just settles on the sidewalk by the side of the Impala to listen to their conversation.

“So does this mean that you… I mean… What do we call you?” Sam asks Jack awkwardly.

Dean, never one to be cowed by heavenly authority, scoffs and says, “Who cares what we call him? Look, all that matters is that he got us back online.” There’s a distinct tone of pride there, and Cas supposes this means that Jack is finally redeemed in Dean’s eyes, which is a good thing.

Sam asks about Amara, who Jack explains is living in harmony with him, which makes Cas wonder again what they’ve done to Chuck. Then Jack tells them, to Dean’s surprise, that he’s not coming back to the bunker, that from now on his “home” will be everywhere, in everything, the rain, the dust, everyone’s hearts. He will be a part of everyone in his world, but he will not be hands-on in their lives; unlike Chuck, he will never put himself into the story.

“I learned from you, and my mother, and Castiel that when people have to be their best, they can be. And that’s what to believe in,” he says.

Cas is so proud of him. This is his son who he raised, who he believed in when others doubted, who he saved and made a deal for and loved, and now he is his God, and he will be a _good_ God, and Castiel is so unbelievably proud of how he has turned out.

That feeling is so overpowering that it doesn’t occur to him until Jack is saying goodbye that hang on, he is still a _dog._ He stands up and starts to move forward to ask him to change him back, but Jack is already gone.

Shit.

“Huh,” says Dean after an echoing silence. “Should we maybe have asked him some other questions before he left?”

“Probably,” Sam agrees, sounding a bit shell-shocked, and then his phone rings. “Oh my god.”

“Well, yeah,” Dean says, “Weren’t you listening to that conversation at all, dude?”

“Not – shut up. It’s Eileen.”

“Awesome, tell her I’m glad she’s okay.”

Sam nods, grinning, and wanders off to answer the video call somewhere a little more private, and once he’s alone, Dean finally notices that there’s a dog staring up at him.

“Holy shit! Hey, Miracle. Wow. Thanks, Jack.” He kneels down, and Cas eagerly accepts the hug, then learns that he’s got some dog instincts on top of his regular consciousness when he automatically nuzzles Dean’s face and licks a big wet stripe up his cheek. Dean huffs a laugh, but Cas knows that this will be extremely awkward for both of them if he ever gets changed back.

“Dean, it’s me,” he tries, but of course it just comes out as a soft bark.

“Come on, buddy,” Dean says fondly, getting to his feet and opening the back door of the car, “Let’s sit in here while we wait for Sammy.”

They settle in the backseat, door slightly ajar, Cas’s head in Dean’s lap, Dean running his fingers through his fur. He should not be taking advantage of this, but it feels so good, mostly because it’s Dean but also just in general. He’s not very familiar with this kind of gentle touch, and it’s nice, especially with his dog feelings heightening the need for affection.

Dean has been doing something on his phone, and after a few minutes Cas hears a ringing like he’s making a phone call. There’s no answer, and Dean swears softly and redials. No answer, redial, no answer.

“Damn it!” Dean’s voice cracks, and Cas whines and raises his head to look at him. Dean scratches his ear with a shaking hand and gives a watery chuckle. “Thanks for the concern, pal. It’s just – ha, look at me talking to an animal like you understand me. Anyway, I… lost somebody. And I guess he didn’t come back, not this time.”

This – this distress is because of _him?_

“Dean,” he says, or tries to, though it translates as a whimper. He lifts a paw and sets it heavily on his shoulder, which just makes Dean shudder.

“You know, he used to do that, too?” He drags a hand over his face, then jolts his expression back to looking less vulnerable when Sam comes back over. “Hey.”

“Hey. The dog is here?”

“Yeah, and this time he really is coming back with us. How’s Eileen?”

“She’s all right. She remembers what happened, but she doesn’t remember being… gone. She’s going to meet us back at the bunker.”

“Cool. And I texted Charlie, Donna, Jody, some of the others. It seems like everyone is back and feeling fine.”

“Thank – well.”

“Yeah.”

“And, uh. What about Cas?”

Dean sniffs and reflexively holds Cas a little closer. “Still gone. Guess that was one of the things we should have asked Jack about before he left.”

Sam’s expression turns sympathetic. “Dean, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Well, at least he got what he wanted, right? We’re alive, Billy’s gone, Chuck’s out of commission, Jack saved the world. Nice for someone’s sacrifice to finally be worth something.”

It’s true, and it’s a good thought, but Dean’s voice is hollow, and Sam clearly hears it too. “Sure, that’s a nice way to think about it, I guess,” he says cautiously.

“I just – fuck.” Dean punches the roof of the car, wincing and running a soothing hand down Cas’s back when he jumps. “I just don’t get why Jack wouldn’t bring him back. It’d be one thing if he _couldn’t_ , but man, he’s _God_. Chuck pulled Lucifer out of the Empty, right? It’s possible.” Cas blinks. Chuck did what? “I mean, come on, who did more for Jack than Cas? Nobody. He _owes_ him.”

That is not exactly how Cas would look at it; he never did anything with an eye toward repayment. Everything he did for Jack, he did out of love. He is not owed anything. But he _would_ very much like Jack to return him to his previous body.

He licks a tear off of Dean’s face, which feels like a good idea until he’s doing it, and Dean splutters, “Gross, dude,” but it succeeds in lightening the mood just enough for Sam to smile a little and Dean to sigh and say, “Let’s just go home.”

As days pass and they all try to adjust to their new lives, Cas learns that he dislikes almost all aspects of being a dog, but that being the _Winchesters’_ dog can be quite rewarding. Eating dog food is not especially enjoyable, but accepting mouthfuls of bacon from Dean’s hand under the table when he thinks Sam isn’t watching brings a thrill. Having to let one of the brothers take him outside a few times a day to watch him urinate against trees is humiliating, but getting to come back and sit on their beds is almost worth it. Playing fetch is boring, but he likes occasionally going on runs with Sam. His heightened sense of smell is unfortunate in some of the Men of Letter’s collection rooms, but comforting in the living areas, which smell like home, especially Dean’s bedroom. He hates not being able to communicate properly, but he loves being the object of so much physical affection from his friends.

He profoundly hopes this transformation will not be forever, but he could live with it if it was.

Sam and Dean, for their parts, seem fine, even happy.

Eileen is around most of the time now, and the three of them seem delighted with each other’s presence; they have family dinners, and Sam and Eileen spend all day smiling at each other like they’ve never seen anything so wonderful. Cas never had a chance to spend all that much time with her, but he likes her very much, and patiently allows her to teach him tricks with ASL commands, even though performing for human entertainment in exchange for dog treats feels a bit degrading.

Sam and Dean haven’t had a case yet, so they’ve been enjoying being more domestic, cleaning and organizing the bunker, cooking. Sam is working on improving the communication network between hunters, and Dean is rereading a Vonnegut novel.

They’re doing well.

Or at least, that’s what Cas thinks until he wanders by Dean’s room one night about two weeks after his return and finds Dean sitting on the end of his bed, leaned over with his elbows on his knees, hands folded, head bowed, body shaking slightly like he’s been crying.

Stricken, Cas pauses in the doorway, which is just barely ajar.

“Hey, Cas. Castiel,” says Dean hoarsely. Cas jolts, shocked to hear Dean address him – has he somehow realized the dog is him? – but no, of course not, how would he? And he hasn’t even noticed he’s here. He’s… praying? Dean continues, “I don’t know if you can hear me. Probably not. I doubt the Empty is really set up to let prayer through. But if there’s even a chance, I have to… I have to try to talk to you, man. Uh. Not that I really know what to say. I mean, I know there are a lot of things I need to say to you, but I’d really rather say them, you know, _to you_. In person. I want you back here, Cas. I want to tell you about what happened after you – left. And I want you to have breakfast with me and Sam and Eileen. And I want you to meet my new dog. And I… I want to talk about what happened, what you said to me. I’m no fucking good at this stuff, you know that, you know me better than anyone, you know I suck at… emotions, and talking, and everything. But I want to try _._ Cas, I need you to know how much I appreciate you saving me, again, but I also need you to know that I miss you like hell, and I can’t accept your goodbye being final. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to you. I’m gonna get you home. I don’t know how, but I promise you, I am not leaving you there.”

There’s a tightness in Cas’s chest. Something painful, with a hint of something like hope. He had known that Dean had taken some of Cas’s previous deaths hard, and was always eager to get him back, but he has never seen the reality of it firsthand. There has also never been a love confession hanging over them in this situation. It is encouraging (though heartbreaking, given the fact that Cas is right here unable to put an end to his worry) that Dean is so desperate to have Cas in his life even knowing his feelings. Cas is not so foolish as to assume that this indicates reciprocation, but at the very least he knows he is not uncomfortable with being friends with a man who loves him.

Dean groans, wipes his face with his hands. Cas is about to come offer someone to cuddle with, which Dean seems to enjoy though he probably would never use that word to describe it, but then he starts talking again.

“Jack,” he starts, “Kid. Your Greatness? Whatever. Jack. I know you said you didn’t want prayers. But I gotta know – why not Cas? You restored everyone else, why not him? Actually, you know what? It doesn’t really matter why you didn’t do anything before. I’m asking you to do it now. I need him back here. I’ve tried doing some research to see if I could do something myself, but I think it has to be you, and I know you said you weren’t going to be hands-on, but it’s _Cas_. He’s your dad, that has to be an exception, right? Please. Jack, _please_ , bring him home.”

He sits there quietly for another minute, Cas still watching breathlessly, then shakes his head and stands up, at which point Cas finally pushes his way through the door.

“Oh,” Dean says, “Hey, buddy.”

“I love you,” Cas barks when Dean bends over to pet him. Dean doesn’t understand him, but he does smile, so Cas considers it a win.

The next day, Jack pops up in the bunker when they’re all hanging around the library.

“Hello!” he greets them, raising a hand and not seeming to notice the way all four of them dramatically startle at his sudden appearance.

Sam is the first to recover. “Um. Hi, Jack. Good to see you. What’s up?”

Jack turns to Dean and Cas, who are sharing a chair. “I owe you both an apology.”

Dean blinks. “What, me and Miracle?”

“You and Castiel. I’m sorry I didn’t fix your situation earlier. And Dean, I have to thank you for praying last night.”

“Oh, uh… you’re welcome?” Dean very deliberately avoids looking at Sam, who is translating for Eileen with raised eyebrows.

“I hadn’t noticed what was wrong until you pointed it out to me. I have been very busy, cleaning up Chuck’s messes.”

Cas jumps down to the floor, as it’s occurred to him that if Jack turns him back, it will be better if he’s not in Dean’s lap.

Jack smiles at him, and in the next moment Cas feels the odd shifting sensation from before, and then he’s standing on two feet in his own human-shaped body.

The library is filled with utter stunned silence, broken by Dean yelping, “What the _fuck?_ ”

Cas clears his throat, not quite looking at him. “Hello, Dean.” Then to Jack, “Thank you so much. And I hope you know how proud I am of you. Aside from not realizing I was a dog.”

“What the fuck?” Dean asks again.

When Cas forces himself to make eye contact, Dean looks… well, he looks like he’s trying to process the fact that God has just changed his dog into his dead friend.

“Chuck pulled me from the Empty and turned me into a dog so he could use me as a prop in his plan to torment you,” he explains. “Of course you would have no idea it was me, and he could have just as easily used an actual dog, but he thought it was funny.”

“Woah, what a dick.”

“Yes.”

“That makes sense,” says Jack. “After I brought everyone back, I knew that the dog Dean found was alive and I could tell that you weren’t in the Empty anymore, but it didn’t occur to me that those things would be related. I should have recognized you, but I was distracted. Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Sam coughs. “Well, we’re really glad you’re back, Cas. Thanks for… clearing this up, Jack.”

“You’re welcome! And I really should get going now. It was good to see you all again. I love you. Goodbye.”

Before anyone can say anything else, he fades away into an outline of light and then nothing.

“Your son is a very strange god,” Eileen reflects, and they all laugh, maybe a little hysterically.

After sobering up, the reality of how odd this is hits hard, and they all just stare at each other for a moment.

Cas is bracing himself to say something, anything – an apology, maybe, for accepting such an intimate position in their lives rather than trying to figure out a way to show them who he was – when Dean nods decisively, stands up, and pulls Cas into a hug.

“Oh,” Cas says softly, automatically raising his arms to return the embrace.

Dean holds him so tightly it almost hurts, but Cas cannot be bothered, too grateful for the proof that he is wanted. “Shit, Cas,” gasps Dean. “I can’t believe this.”

“I’m here,” he murmurs, curling his fingers into the back of his flannel.

Neither of them can seem to bring themselves to let go, so the hug lasts longer than might be strictly socially appropriate, but eventually they sheepishly disentangle. Cas accepts shorter, though still warm, hugs from Sam and Eileen, and then they all sit back down to catch Cas up on what happened while he was gone, since no one bothered to explain anything to the dog. In return, he answers some of their questions about what it was like being a dog. He apologizes for effectively spying on them, and for the licking. They shrug it off, but he is sure he’s not imagining an undertone of awkwardness.

Awkward or not, sitting around talking with them does not bother him. It is nice to be able to use his voice, and he loves his friends. But he can see that Dean is restless, constantly shifting in his chair, but never looking away from Cas, like he needs to see him to be sure he’s still really there.

After a while, there’s a pause in the conversation, and Dean touches his arm very lightly and asks quietly, “Hey, can we talk?” They have been talking, but Cas knows what he means, and nods.

Sam and Eileen wave them off with knowing expressions, and Cas follows Dean into his bedroom. Dean shuts the door and they just stand there staring at each other.

“I heard your prayer last night,” Cas offers eventually.

“Yeah? Which one?”

“Both. Dean, I cannot tell you how much it means to me that you would care so much.”

“Of course I do,” he says, sounding wounded. “Come on, Cas, I know I’m not great at saying what I’m feeling, but I thought you knew that, at least. You’re – you’re my best friend. You’re _family_. That’s not going to change because of – because of anything. Of course I care. Of course I was going to do whatever I could to get you back.” He glances downward, snorts when he sees the dog dishes by the foot of the bed. “Just a little embarrassed I didn’t realize you were already here. Should have known when you put your paw on my shoulder right after I tried calling you.”

“It was not a conclusion anyone could reasonably be expected to jump to.”

“Still.”

“Dean, is this what you wanted to talk about?”

He takes a small step closer. “Cas, what you said… it surprised me, and it was hard to process, especially since you waited to say it until we were about to die, but I think I needed to hear it. All of it. The stuff about how I see myself – I can’t say it was fun for me to be, I don’t know, exposed like that, but you’re right. And man, I want to be the person you think I am. I want to be able to believe that I could ever be worthy of being – being loved that much.”

“You are,” Cas insists. “Dean. I meant everything I told you. You are a good, loving man, and you absolutely deserve love in return.”

“Well, if I do, then so do you. You say I’m selfless? Buddy, you’ve been there saving the world right with us all this time, taking risks, making sacrifices, not because of Heaven’s orders but because you really cared about helping people. And shit, apparently you’re the kind of person who can feel true joy from just… telling somebody you love them and not even getting anything back, so. You want to talk about anyone being loving, sure seems like you should be counting yourself. And that ain’t all me. It’s just who you are. I helped you get your priorities straight, that’s all.”

“Well,” Cas says, because he can’t resist, “Not exactly straight.”

“What? – Oh.” He laughs, startled. “Wow, okay. Now that it’s out there, you’re gonna be catching up on twelve years of gay jokes?”

He shrugs. “Maybe. Unless it makes you uncomfortable, of course, which –”

“No – Cas, no. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

“You’re… trying to tell me that you’re not uncomfortable with my feelings for you.”

“No. Well, yes. But not just that. I’m trying to tell you that… that it’s not just you.”

Dean takes another step closer, close enough to take his hand, the touch – skin to skin, fairly rare for them – electrifying.

This all seems difficult to misinterpret, but Cas squeezes his hand and says, “I’m sorry, Dean, but I’m going to need you to spell out what you’re saying.”

“Right.” Dean nods a little shakily, takes a breath, and says, “I love you too. Cas, I’m saying I love you too. You make me a better version of myself, and I’m always fucking miserable when you’re not here, and you make me feel things I’ve never felt, and want things I never thought I could have, and –”

Cas kisses him.

There’s a moment of adjustment, as Dean processes what’s happening and stops talking to kiss back and Cas tries to remember what he’s doing as it’s been a long time since he kissed anyone, but then they both melt into it, pulling each other close. Dean lets go of his hand so he can hold Cas’s face in both hands, sliding one around into his hair, and Cas’s arms go around Dean’s back. Their chests press together; Cas thinks, fancifully, that he can feel Dean’s heartbeat racing through his own blood.

The kiss itself has an urgency to it, driven by so many years of hopeless longing – on both sides? – but there’s also a gentleness, like they both feel a need to be careful with this relationship which is so terribly important. Their lips slide together, firm but not heated, a promise for more but not a push for it, not yet.

Inevitably, Dean has to stop to breathe, but he doesn’t go far, dropping his head onto Cas’s shoulder.

“This scares the hell out of me, Cas,” he says softly. “This thing between us is so intense, always has been, and I don’t know how to handle that.”

“And I do?” He nudges at Dean to make him lift his face so he can kiss his forehead and then look in his eyes. “Dean, I may be a great deal older than you, but you know the extent of my relationship experience. And there has never been anything like the enormity of what I feel for you. This isn’t even something an angel is supposed to feel. I don’t know what I’m doing either. But I have faith that together, we can figure it out. And I think it will be worth it.”

Dean is smiling now, too, a beautiful sight that Cas wants to spend forever looking at. It’s starting to sink in for both of them that this is really happening. They really get this. “Yeah,” says Dean. “Yeah, okay. Let’s figure it out.”

They end up on the bed, just laying there holding each other, because they can. In a little while, they will go out and rejoin Sam and Eileen, endure their teasing, help with research, prepare a meal, think about the future. Later, though. For now, nothing is more important than two bodies curling into each other, cherishing the fact that they’re both alive.

“Hey,” Dean comments, tracing his fingers in idle patterns up and down Cas’s back, “Is it too soon to bring up the idea of getting an actual dog?”

“Yes,” Cas says, and then he kisses the laughter out of Dean’s mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm [sparrowsfallingfromthesky](https://sparrowsfallingfromthesky.tumblr.com) on tumblr, if you want to say hi or if you're interested in Black Sails.


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